


Bottom / Top

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Series: Chasing A Starlight (Chronology) [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Blow Jobs, Casual Sex, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, Kneeling, M/M, Negotiations, Safe Sane and Consensual, Subdrop, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 02:31:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4002514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course Tyler knows that intense hockey makes a sub more susceptible to going under, but he hadn't really experienced it much before.  Now, when he’s on his knees on the ice drinking beer out of the Worlds trophy that Sidney Fucking Crosby is holding to his mouth, he can recognize the signs.  He can feel a haze settling around the edges of his mind, and he’s spent enough time subbing, and drunk, and subbing while drunk, to know which one of those this is.</p><p>*Edited to have no mention of Kane*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bottom / Top

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waffles_007](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waffles_007/gifts).



> Content Note: This fic features Sidney Crosby unintentionally getting Tyler into subspace through nonsexual means, without either of them discussing it beforehand. It is not nonconsensual, and negotiations occur before any sexual interaction does, as well as check-in afterward. Feel free to ask for more clarification if this could possibly be triggering for you.
> 
> Inspired by that wonderful picture of Tyler Seguin drinking from the trophy as Crosby holds it, featuring the locker room video of Tyler (again) drinking from the trophy and Crosby being a dork.
> 
> THIS IS FOR WAFFLES FOR THEIR BIRTHDAY, BC THEY WANTED FIC BASED ON THAT PICTURE FOR THEIR BIRTHDAY, SO HERE YOU GO!! A FEW HOURS EARLY!!
> 
> I do not represent any of the real people presented as characters in this fic, nor do I make any claims about what they do in their private lives.

Of course Tyler knows that intense hockey makes a sub more susceptible to going under.  He’s been playing hockey for two decades; he’s had his fair share of games where he has to fight against the instinct to kneel for any Dom that hits or chirps him.  Every sub in the NHL has that story where they almost gave in.

He and Faulk had talked about it, getting drunk the night before the all star game. Faulk told him about the 2010 Olympics, when he’d had to play against teams stacked with Doms and spent every intermission on the floor of the locker room by Kessel’s feet to keep control of himself on the ice.  Tyler had never experienced anything close to that.

He thinks, now, that he understands what Faulk went through.  Now, when he’s on his knees on the ice drinking beer out of the Worlds trophy that _Sidney Fucking Crosby_ is holding to his mouth.  He can feel a haze settling around the edges of his mind, and he’s spent enough time subbing, and drunk, and subbing while drunk, to know which one of those this is.

So he knows he’s sinking into subspace faster than he ever has, right here on the ice.  He _can’t_ , but he also can’t stop it.

“CROS!” Dutchy yells, skating towards them and wrapping his arms around Sid’s waist.  The cup of the trophy tilts up, and Tyler swallows the beer in his mouth.  He closes his eyes as Sid yells something back.  Everything sounds fuzzy and far away. He knows other people are on the ice with them, but he can’t tell who it is.

“Segs,” someone says quietly, right next to his ear.  He opens his eyes and, through the bright lights, can tell its Spezza next to him.  “Segs, get up.”

“Spez,” Tyler mutters, and licks his lips.

“Get up.”  And that’s his Dom voice, the one he, as a switch, barely uses.  Tyler can’t ignore it.  With the help of Spezza, he gets to his feet and slowly starts to skate to the bench.

“Seggy!” Sid yells.  Tyler glances back at him, even though he knows what a horrible idea it is.  Sid’s standing there with the cup, a confident twist to his lips that comes so naturally.  Tyler whimpers and sags against Spez.

“You know better than this, Segs,” Spezz tells him, forcing him off the ice.  “How’d you let it get so fucking bad?”

“Wasn’t,” Tyler gasps, tearing his eyes from Sid’s so he wouldn’t trip over something.  Or go running back to the empty patch of ice at his feet.  “I was _fine_.”

Spezza pushes him into the dressing room, and then down to sit in his stall.

“If you go down now,” Spezza tells him, leaning in close with his hands on Tyler’s shoulders, “It’s gonna count against you next time they’re looking at the Team Canada roster.”

Tyler bites his lip on a sob.  It had been a dream playing for his country, winning _gold_ , and he couldn’t let anything get in the way of it happening again.

“What can I do to help.”

“Just… push.”

Spezza pushes harder on Tyler’s shoulders.  Tyler sucks in a deep breath and closes his eyes.  If he focuses on the steady pressure on his shoulders and his own body pushing back, he could wipe the fog just away enough to make it through the next hour or two of press and celebrating.  He’d miss out on hitting the bars later, but he could live with that, if it meant he could play for Canada again.

“Better?” Spezza asks after a minute.

“Yeah,” Tyler sighs, opening his eyes.  “Thanks, man.”

“Anytime.”  He lets go of Tyler’s shoulders, and pushed his hat off.  “I know you and Jamie have your thing for the season, but I’m serious.  Anytime.”

Tyler nods jerkily, and pulls his jersey over his head.  When the red fabric had cleared his face, Spezza was over at his own stall, picking at the tape on his shins.

 

.oOo.

 

Tyler had precious little time to get himself together.  Most of the team are still out on the ice, taking turns drinking from the trophy and hugging it out on the ice and taking pictures.  Only G and Hallsy and Ebs had been in the dressing room when Tyler came in.

It doesn’t take long for the celebration to move inside, though.  Guys start filtering in, high fiving and shouting and still drinking.  Tyler keeps an eye out for Sid, but he forces himself to start taking off his pads, and then his skates and socks and pants, when Sid still hasn’t arrived.

He does come in, though.  He’s still holding the cup, still has his cap on, and he still makes Tyler want to slide off the bench and down to his knees when Sid meets his eyes.

“You didn’t get to finish drinking out of it,” Sid shouts, stepping over to him and holding the trophy out with a blinding smile.  Tyler smiles back and takes it, not sure what else to do.  He half-hopes that now Sid will leave him alone, go spread some cheer with the rest of the guys.

He’s not that fortunate.  Sid’s stall isn’t far from Tyler’s, so he can stand within a few feet of Tyler and still pull off all his gear and toss it into his stall.  Tyler sits on the bench and holds the cup between his knees, staring down at the beer sitting in the bottom.

“Seggy!” Hallsy yells, dropping down next to him and slinging an arm around Tyler’s shoulders.  Tyler grins over at the fellow sub, feeling himself relax a little.  Subs have that effect on each other, sometimes.  “You wanted a video of you drinking out of the trophy, right?”

Tyler remembers saying something like that, after G started drinking from it on the ice, when Ebs and Hallsy were still sandwiching him between them.

“Yeah,” he answers belatedly.  “Could you take it?”

“Course, bro.”  Hallsy stands up and pours the rest of his beer into the cup, then grabs his phone.  “Come on, get up.  Gotta show off your abs for the nice Dommes out there.”

Tyler flushes, but stands up and holds the trophy by the two handles.  Once Hallsy’s got his phone up, he gives Tyler a nod and Tyler holds the lip of the cup to his mouth.

He peeks out of the corner of his eye at Hallsy, and then Sid leans between them to throw his tape into the trash bin.

“Get out of the way Cros!” Hallsy yells, obnoxious as ever.  Tyler looks over his shoulder at Sid, conscious of the camera on him and grinning as wide as he can.  Sid yells something back, but Tyler can’t tell what he says.  The rushing in his ears is back.  He can vaguely hear Hallsy yell something to him, telling him to drink again, and Tyler complies.  He barely gets a mouthful of beer before he has to lower it again.

Hallsy’s laughing, replaying the video on his phone.  “Seggy, this is the best—“  He cuts off, looking over at Tyler, and frowns.  Tyler half-falls, half-sits at his stall, trophy tilting in his hands.  “Segs, are you all right?”

Tyler thinks about lying again, but when Hallsy sits next to him, he shakes his head.

“What is it?” Hallsy asks, putting a hand on his bare shoulder.  Tyler shivers and presses closer to him.  “Oh.”

Tyler wonders if Hallsy has gone through this, at the NHL level.  It’s easier to deal with in juniors, when the coaches are more sympathetic to everyone’s dynamic presenting, and all the hormones swimming around.  Once you get past the draft, you’re supposed to be able to handle it.  And Hallsy’s had Ebs since he went up to Edmonton, a nice calm Dom to keep him on an even keel.  Jamie tried to be that for Tyler, since he was traded to Dallas, and it helped, but not as much as Tyler needs.

“Ebs and I can get you back to the hotel,” Hallsy tells him, taking the trophy from him.  “Get a shirt on.  I’m getting Ebs.”

Tyler nods and reaches behind him automatically, scrabbling for the shirt he knew he threw into the back of his stall before the game.  He manages to find it and pull it on before Hallsy and Ebs are in front of him.

Ebs crouches down and looks into his eyes.  “Yeah, you’re pretty gone, aren’t you?”  He says quietly.  Tyler nods, even though it was rhetorical.  “Don’t worry, Seggy.  We’ll get you into bed.”

Tyler nods again and lets them help him to his feet.  Dutchy turns on the music on the other side of the room, and it diverts everyone’s attention enough for them to slip away unnoticed.

 

.oOo.

 

The journey back to the hotel takes a lot longer than Tyler remembers it ever taking.  He feels like he’s drunk, like he can’t keep his feet under him, and Hallsy and Ebs supporting him on either side are all that can convince him to put one foot in front of the other.  One of them must have taken his keycard from his bag, because he doesn’t remember grabbing it before they left.

And before he knows it, he’s being pushed gently onto his bed, and moved around until they can get him curled up with the blankets and quilt on top of him.

“I’m adding the quilt from the other bed,” Ebs tells him, before Tyler feels the weight of it settle over him.  He sighs and relaxes into the bed, cloaked in warmth and pressed down.

“Segs,” Hallsy says, patting Tyler’s cheek.  He opens his eyes just enough to look up at him.  “Go to sleep, and when you wake up, call us, okay?  We wanna make sure you’re all right.”

“Yeah,” Tyler replies, smiling slightly.  “Got it.  Call when I wake up.”

Hallsy smiles back, and then he and Ebs are gone.  Probably to rejoin the celebration.  Tyler tries to fall asleep, practicing every relaxation technique he was taught, and manages to doze a little.

He immediately wakes up when there’s a knock on the door.

“Segs?  Are you in there?”

Tyler sits up, staring over at the door.  That’s Sid’s voice.

“You disappeared, I want to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” Tyler calls out, but he knows it sounds weak.

“Can I come in?”

It’s probably a bad idea.  Tyler knows that.  But he gets out of bed and pads over to the door.  He swings it open, and Sid’s there, in a Hockey Canada shirt and that same cap and loose shorts.  Tyler clings to the door frame.

“See, I’m fine.”

Sid purses his lips.  “Why’d you run out so fast, then?  I thought you’d be leading the charge to the bar.”

Tyler glances away.  “Just tired.  Took a lot out of me.”

Sid sighs.  “Is this… a sub thing?”  His voice is hilariously hushed for the end of the question.

Tyler nods.

“Can I do anything to help?”

Tyler shakes his head.  He doesn’t think Sid believes him, because he doesn’t leave.

“If you just need to kneel for someone, I don’t mind—“

“I’m not asking you for that, Sid,” Tyler says quietly.  He finally looks at Sid, and he has a considering look on his face.

“It’s not a hardship,” Sid tells him, voice low.  “The NHL subs talk about who they’d want to sub for, right?”

Tyler nods.  The Team Canada subs all got together and talked about who they’d go to their knees for.  Pretty much everyone agreed Sid was a top choice, but Hallsy made a strong case for Ebs, too.

“The Doms do, too, I mean, talk about who they’d want to Dom.  Pretty much everyone thinks you’d be beautiful on your knees, Segs.  Worth the trouble of getting you there.”  Sid flushes.  Tyler can’t tear his eyes away. “I’d be lucky to have you sub for me.”

It’s surprising, honestly.  After he got tore apart by the Bruins and Boston media, Tyler was pretty sure none of the NHL players would do more than pity-Dom him.  But he’s actually desirable?  People _want_ to Dom him, and talk about how much they want to?

“So, you know.  If you want.”

Tyler still doesn’t say anything.  He doesn’t know what to say.

Sid nods sharply.  “Okay.  I’ll go back to my room, and if—”

Before he can finish, Tyler drops to his knees, right there in the doorway.  Sid sucks in a breath, and when Tyler looks up at him, his eyes are wide.

“Inside,” Sid tells him.  “We’ll put a pillow down.”

Tyler nods and stands up again, holding the door open for Sid and then letting it swing shut.  He throws the safety bar; G can go take Sid’s bed and share a room with Dutchy.

By the time he gets back to the bed, Sid has put one of the pillows on the ground next to the near bed, and has a quilt bundled in his hands.

“I don’t want you getting cold,” Sid says, waiting for Tyler to kneel on the pillow before carefully tucking the quilt around his shoulders, making sure it covers his feet.

Tyler sighs and leans against Sid’s knee, wrapping a hand around his ankle.  He relaxes when Sid’s hand lands in his hair, carefully petting over the top of his head.

The fuzz creeps into Tyler’s mind again, but he doesn’t fight it this time.  He lets it wrap around his thoughts until every sensation feels like it’s coming through a cloud of fog.

“Tyler,” Sid says, quietly, hand going under Tyler’s chin and tilting his head up.  “Can you look at me?”

Tyler opens his eyes.

“Thank you.  Is kneeling enough?  Are you feeling better?  Do you need anything else?”

“Don’t need it,” Tyler replies, his words a bit slurred.  It’s hard to make his mouth make the right shapes.  “But wanna.”

“What do you want?”

Tyler leans forward and presses his lips to the slight bulge in Sid’s shorts.  He can hear Sid’s breath catch, and he smiles.

“Do you want to suck me?”

“Yeah,” Tyler replies.

“Is there anything else you want?”  Sid asks.  He pulls Tyler back a little, and waits until Tyler opens his eyes and looks at him.  “I’m not doing anything we don’t talk about, first.”

Tyler shakes his head.  “Just…now.  Just wanna suck you.”

It’s too hard to form thoughts, and even harder to translate them into words.  He wants to be on his knees, here, with Sid looking down on him.  Of course he’d want to do other things with Sid.  He wants Sid to hold him down and finger him, spank him, flog him, fuck him.  But it’s less urgent, want versus this all-consuming need.

“Whatever you need,” Sid tells him, like he understands.  Maybe it’s the same for Doms, the need to take care of their sub overarching every other thing Sid’s thought about doing to him.

“You can—can I come after?” Tyler asks, looking up at Sid.  He’d been with Doms, mostly in Boston, that liked to keep a sub hard and needy at the end of a scene.  He doesn’t think Sid would fit into that category, but it was better to be safe than disobedient.

“Yeah, ‘course you can,” Sid murmurs, running his hand through Tyler’s hair.  “However you want.”

Tyler nods, and turns his attention back to the bulge in Sid’s shorts.  He puts his hands on Sid’s knees, fingers curling, to steady himself.  Leaning in, he rubs his cheek against the bulge.  It’s hot against his face, and hard, and Tyler’s wanted Sid’s cock in his mouth since he was sixteen.

Sid clears his throat.  “Pull my shorts down.”

Tyler reaches up and pulls the nylon shorts down quickly, taking just enough care not to let the waistband catch on Sid’s cock.  He isn’t wearing underwear.  Tyler almost whimpers.

Sid’s hand slides back into Tyler’s hair, fingers twisting around the thick strands.

“Start with the head.”

Tyler doesn’t waste a moment, once permission is given.  He ducks his head and licks around the head of Sid’s cock, dipping his tongue just past Sid’s foreskin.  He hasn’t had a chance to blow many uncut guys, living and playing in the US since he was eighteen, but it always made it so much more fun.

Sid’s hand in his hair keeps him at exactly the right place – Tyler can’t swallow more of his cock than Sid would allow, and he can’t pull back more than half an inch from the tip.  He fits the head of Sid’s cock into his mouth, using his lips and his tongue to push Sid’s foreskin down so he can suck at the exposed head.

Sid moans, a quiet sound, and it makes Tyler’s heart beat faster.  He can feel himself slipping under, with his shoulders bracketed by Sid’s thighs and his mouth full of his cock.

Tyler groans, fighting against Sid’s grip on his hair to take more into his mouth.  When Sid continues to hold him back, he looks up at Sid and pulls back as much as he’s allowed.

“Please Sir?” he pleads, licking his lips.  “I want more.”

Sid nods and carefully presses his head down, until Tyler’s nose is pressed to his stomach and the thick weight of Sid’s cock in his mouth brings tears to his eyes.  He curls his hands into fists and breathes as well as he could through his nose, intent on staying down as long as Sid allows him.

“You like having me all the way down your throat?” Sid asks, breathless.  Tyler can’t speak, can’t nod, but he looks up at Sid and hopes he understands, again, what Tyler can’t say.  Sid must, because as soon as he pulls Tyler back by the hair and allows him to take a breath, he’s pushing him down again.

Tyler moans and shuffles closer on his knees.  He lifts himself up a bit, letting Sid’s cock slip in another quarter inch.  The quilt slips off his shoulders, but he barely notices.  Tyler is boiling now, all the pervasive chill from earlier in the night forgotten.

“You like when I push you down?”

Tyler whimpers around his cock, hips jerking forward and rubbing against the side of the bed.

Sid nudges his toes against Tyler’s thigh, pushing him back.  “You have to wait until I come, Tyler.”

Tyler sags a little, the pleasure-filled haze in his mind contaminated by knowing he didn’t listen, he went against what Sid had _explicitly_ told him to do.  He sucks harder at Sid’s cock, wanting to make up for it.

He’s pulled back again, pushed down again, pulled up so just the head was in his mouth, before Sid’s hand gentles in his hair, turning more to petting then holding.  “I love seeing how much you love sucking my cock,” Sid tells him, tucking a curl behind Tyler’s ear.  “I don’t want you to come before I get to touch you.”

Tyler nods slightly, glancing up at Sid again.  His eyes are blazing, lips bitten red.  Tyler groans and takes him all the way down his throat again.  He wants to show off, now, take advantage of his one shot with Sid to show how good he could be.  Make Sid want to come back again and again and again, because of how good Tyler makes him feel.

Bobbing his head, Tyler sucks hard every time he pulls back, making sure to finish with a swirl of the tongue over the head.  He can faintly hear Sid panting above him, his hands shaking as he runs them over Tyler’s head.  He isn’t guiding Tyler anymore, so Tyler can go as fast as he wants, faster than Sid let him before.

Then Sid’s hands are tightening again, holding Tyler’s head in place as he thrusts in once, and then again, and then comes with a deep moan into Tyler’s mouth.  Tyler hurries to swallow, not wanting a single drop of Sid’s come to escape.  Sid moans again, hips rocking forward as Tyler digs the tip of his tongue into the slit.

After a moment, Sid gently tugs his head back.  Tyler looks up at Sid, unable to stop a smile from spreading over his face.  Sid smiles back, a little quirk of his lips that makes Tyler swell with pride.

“Come up here,” Sid says roughly, patting his thigh.  Tyler scrambles to obey, letting the quilt drop to the floor as he straddles Sid’s thigh.  Sid grabs Tyler’s wrists and places Tyler’s hands on Sid’s shoulders.  “Keep them there.”

Tyler nods.  “Yes, Sir.”

Sid kisses him softly.  “Good.”  He tugs Tyler’s shorts and briefs down, helping Tyler to balance as he gets them past his hips and bunches them around his thighs.  Tyler settles back on Sid’s thigh, digging his fingers into Sid’s shoulders.

“How do you want me to jerk you off?” Sid asks, curling his hand around Tyler’s cock.

“However you want,” Tyler gasps, struggling to stay still.  Sid hums and starts to stroke him slowly, from root to tip.  “Sir, please.”

“Faster?” Sid asks, pressing his lips to Tyler’s neck.

“Yeah,” Tyler moans, toes curling when Sid’s thumb swipes over the slit.  Sid’s hand speeds up obligingly, his fist tightening and loosening around Tyler’s cock in a sporadic rhythm.

“Are you gonna come?” Sid asks quietly, twisting his hand around the tip.

Tyler nods furiously, choking back a sob.

“Do it, then.”

Tyler’s head drops to his chest, hips pumping into Sid’s hand as come spurts from his cock.  He pants, unable to string a single thought together through the sticky fog in his mind.  He barely feels it as Sid pulls Tyler’s hands off his shoulders and gently lowers him to the bed.  Sid pulls Tyler’s shorts and briefs off, using the underwear to wipe up the dribbles of come on both of their skin.

As the quilt settles over him again, Tyler stirs.  “Sir—“

“Shh, I’m here,” Sid replies immediately.  He presses a cool bottle to Tyler’s lips, and he opens automatically to drink from it.  Sid had grabbed one of the Gatorades from the fridge.  “Anything hurt?”

Tyler shakes his head.

The breath Sid lets out ruffles Tyler’s hair.  Tyler squirms until he can get right up against Sid, get Sid’s arm around him.

“I’ll stay tonight,” Sid tells him, pulling Tyler closer.  “You can kick me out in the morning.”

Tyler falls asleep before he can reply.

 

.oOo.

 

Tyler’s surprised that Sid is still there when he wakes up.  He doesn’t think Sid is a ‘wham bam thank you ma’am’ kind of guy, but he’s been wrong about that before. 

“How are you feeling?” Sid asks quietly.  Tyler sighs and snuggles closer to him.

“I’m feeling good.”

Sid rubs a hand over Tyler’s shoulder, and then starts to pull away.

“How are you feeling?”

Sid pauses, like he didn’t expect to be asked.  “I’m good,” he says finally, settling back against Tyler.

“You stayed the night,” Tyler says, willing Sid to understand.

Once again, Sid does.  “A sub should never wake up alone when they fall asleep before they’re brought up.  It’s almost as bad as being left in the middle of aftercare.”

“So it was just your responsibility.”

Sid sighs.  “Tyler—“

Tyler finally twists so he can look at Sid’s face.  His eyebrows are furrowed, lips turned down.  “I wanted you to stay.  I’m happy you were here when I woke up.  Last night when you said that the Doms would talk about who they wanted to sub for them – and you guessed that the subs do that, too, and out of everyone on Team Canada, I wanted you.  Want you.”

Sid nods, but he doesn’t look any less serious.  “And what I said was true.  About the Doms.  And, uh, me wanting you, too.”

Tyler grins.  “Yeah, I’m irresistible, I know.”

Sid rolls his eyes, and the tension breaks.  “Whatever you say, Tyler.”

Tyler nuzzles into his neck, still smiling.  Sid curls his arms around Tyler’s waist, holding him close.

“We should figure out where the team is going for lunch,” Sid says quietly.

“It’s only eleven, they’re probably all still passed out,” Tyler replies, sliding a leg between Sid’s.  “Wanna make me come again before we have to shower?”

Sid holds him tighter.  “Yeah, I do.”  He pulls Tyler’s head back with a hand in his hair, and meets his eyes.  “How do you want me to make you come?”

Tyler licks his lips.  “However you want, Sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr (somethingnerdythiswaycomes) and i love love love receiving comments/concrit.
> 
> 12/21 edit: Justin Faulk replaced Patrick Kane as a character mentioned.


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